Five Things Dean Winchester Won't Admit to
by DeAngelo'sMuse
Summary: Five Things Dean Winchester Won't Admit to and the One Thing He'll Make an Exception For. I think the title says it all. Destiel.


**Author's Note:** Hey, everyone, first fanfic post on LJ! I hope everyone enjoys!  
I've never personally done a "Five times _and the one time_" kind of story but I've read a whole bunch of awesome ones so I thought "hey, why not?"  
All mistakes are mine ^_^  
**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I recieve no money **  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Warnings:** language, possible suggestive themes, that's about it.

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**1. Eat Cake**

Dean Winchester likes to think he's a pie connoisseur. In his almost thirty years of existence, he's had more pie than a pastry chef. He's had gas station pie, homemade pie, pie from restaurants, pie from diners and pie from the grocery store. He's been given pies, taken pies (not that he usually had to take them), made pies (though his turn out horrible, he still eats them), and he's had Sam's pie (Sam didn't need it anyways). On his birthdays he always gets pie or makes Sam get him pie. He likes cherry, strawberry, rhubarb, chocolate, peach, blackberry, raspberry, apple, apple cinnamon, lemon, key lime, banana, and any other flavor you can think of. If pie isn't available, he doesn't eat desert.

Hunters don't exactly have time to make food. Sam doesn't mind but he eats hippy dippy rabbit food and sends a disgusted bitch face at Dean as often as he can get away with it. Anyways, if there's one thing that Dean doesn't like, its cake. It's just...not pie. Sure, it's spongey or sometimes it's moist and fluffy. There's all sorts of different cakes but...none of them are satisfying. "Dean, seriously, pay attention." Sam's voice shook Dean from his (revery?) thoughts. At some point, he'd zoned out while watching a Gilligan's Island rerun. Ginger and Marianne weren't in bathing suits on the screen. One of those soppy ASPCA commercials flashed from a dog, who suspiciously looked like Sam when he had a full on pout, to a tiny kitten gnawing on a woman's finger. Somewhere in the background, Sarah McLachlan was singing tearfully about being 'pulled from the wreckage'. "Look, I'm glad you have a higher brain function that allows you to think, but we kind of have a case."

Dean sighed. The remote he'd been hogging was nowhere to be seen and considering they'd been lucky to have a TV at all, Dean was willing to let that slide and simply turn the thing off manually. "What's up?" he asked, standing up for a stretch and allowing the hem of his t-shirt to ride up momentarily. Sam was glued to his chair at the tiny table near the door, laptop open and a mug of lukewarm coffee settled up against his forearm. The younger Winchester's eyes had streaks of red in them from undoubtedly too much time staring at a little screen. Cocking an eyebrow at the coffee, Dean yanked a chair out and spun it around so he could straddle the sucker. Sam didn't even look up.

"I think it's a wendingo. Or a bear. In Riverton, Wyoming there have been reports of missing campers and a witness, Erin Ericson, says she thought she heard weird growling noises out in the forest when her boyfriend disappeared. The police," Sam explained, turning the laptop around for this brother to see the article, "dismissed it as a grizzly attack but they haven't found any bodies." Dean eyed his brother, noting the shakiness he was trying not to show.

"Alright, we'll head out tomorrow. That's, what, a ten hour drive?" Dean said, looking away in thought. Sam only seemed to barely register his brother's acceptance. "Right, you get some sleep, buddy and lay off the coffee. I'm going out for pie and then I'm gonna call Cas," Dean chuckled, closing the laptop before Sam could think to complain. There was a disturbance in the air, a sort of pressure change, and Dean knew, he _knew,_ this wasn't going to be good. He'd been planning to call Cas _after_ he got his pie so he wasn't talking on an empty stomach. Sam, as tired as he was, still managed a startled jump at the air displacement and the angel's sudden entrance (though it really isn't so sudden after all these years).

"Cas, hey," he greeted and Dean turned slowly in his chair to greet the angel as well. If he'd been expecting what he saw, he might've just laughed it off. The angel, looking ruffled as though he was a cat being pet the wrong way, stood quite normally with his stony expression in place. That's normal. What is not (and well, what's ever normal for the Winchesters?) normal is the cake being held gingerly in the angel's hands. Sam laughed. Dean only stared as the angel stared back, eyeing the cake and then Castiel.

"Cas? I didn't know you were a, uh, chocolate fan," Dean began, clearing his throat. The angel did that little thing with his head and the whole 'I don't understand you, Dean Winchester' expression. Dean really should get a picture of that...

"The store you were planning to visit did not have pie available. I trust a cake will suffice?" Cas said, eyebrows scrunching together. Sam was abruptly silent as he looked between his brother and the angel. Even a blind man who is deaf in one ear and mute would be able to see the attraction between these two. Figuring this had gone on long enough, Sam decided to interrupt with that big girly brain of his.

"Dean doesn't like anything but pie," Sam stated, rubbing a fisted hand over his eyes to scrub away the sleep threatening to succumb to it. He'd meant to say it all nonchalant but it ended up sounding a little petulant. Dean sent him a death glare, green eyes narrowing before looking over at the angel who looked as though somebody might've just hit a dog with their car. Sam felt kinda bad, yeah, but Dean seemed to figure out what to do so the taller man left it alone. Sam stood up and promptly dragged his ass to the bed near the bathroom to pass out.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I thought-" Cas began but Dean cut him off, reaching a hand out from where he was sitting at the table and snatching the cake from Castiel. Ripping the lid off, the older hunter yanked a fork off the table and immediately took a bite. If he blushed a little, Dean would never admit it aloud.

**2. Drinking Girly Coffee**

Whenever Dean Winchester was in charge of getting food for him and his sasquatch brother, he stopped at a diner and maybe a convenience store. Ever once and a while he'd make a detour though; a detour he'd never admit to Sam as long as he lived (and how long is that, again?). One time in particular, the two hunters had stopped in some godforsaken town in Missouri for the night. With the somewhat reluctant promise of a salad for his brother, Dean slipped out the door to his beloved Impala and slid behind the wheel. He had a plan. The engine purred as he drove down the road of the main town. There was actually a fairly good amount of shops along the main drag that gave the impression that more than just hicks lived out here. Glancing around as he pulled up along side of the curb, Dean nodded to him self reassuringly. Sam was nowhere to be seen. Not that he'd follow Dean, but the older Winchester can never be certain. Taking one more look around, Dean stepped out of the Impala and shuffled into the little café he'd discovered.

For being nine at night it was awfully busy but far over near the front window was secluded with a shelf of books lining the wall. The corner of Dean's mouth lifted into a little smirk. Sidling up to the counter, Dean flashed a grin at the woman waiting for his order. She flushed and ran a hand through her shaggy blonde hair before speaking. "What can I get you?" Dean's first instinct is to go for black coffee because that's what he always gets when he's with Sam or anybody else.

"I'll have a vanilla latte with whipped cream, please." She didn't hesitate to ask why he was going for such a...a girly Sammy drink. She-her name tag read Sandra, Dean discovered-didn't even glance at him funny like he'd always assumed most did when a dude (a straight dude) ordered something so frilly. Pulling out a few bills, Dean paid and flashed one more smile before moving off to await his coffee, indulging in the slice of cake (and he will never admit that he eats cake now) he'd bought as well. As he waited, he glanced over to the table he'd seen free before he'd approached the counter and noted it was significantly less empty than before.

One chair had been occupied by a guy in a rumpled suit, slumped over a book, ruffled hair sticking up in all places. At first Dean was a little startled but when he squinted he could clearly make out a familiar jawline and he relaxed. Sandra called his name, wordlessly handing over his coffee before moving on to the next customer. Smiling just a little to himself, Dean wandered over to join the guy and plopped down in the chair across from him. "What happened to the trench coat?" Cas' eyes flicked up to Dean's from the book on the table. He looked a little sheepish but his blue eyes were as attentive as always.

"Sam insisted he wash it." Cas' face was deathly serious but there was some mirth in those twinkling eyes. Dean grinned and sipped his -sweet merciful God, this is wonderful- coffee before reaching across to pick up the book Cas had been so thoroughly enthralled in.

"Great Gatsby? You've been hangin' around Sam too much, buddy," he chuckled. Cas eyed him curiously before snatching it back and skimming the page.

"I was at an interesting part. I believe it is when it is discovered that Nick prefers the same gender sexually," Cas tutted, flipping a page. Dean snorted just a little and nearly inhaled his coffee in the process. Setting the cup down, he ran a hand over his -now beet red- face. Cas ignored the overreaction and continued to enjoy the literature. Sighing, Dean sat back in his chair to think.

"I gotta get food for Sammy," Dean muttered at some point and Cas glanced up at him with a twitch of a smile on his lips.

"Sam has gone to sleep early." It was a statement that should probably concern Dean but considering Castiel wasn't too upset over the idea, he relaxed. They sat in relative silence as people chattered around them. The aroma of the baked goods wafted around mixing with a sort of floral scent that made the place homey. Dean smiled softly and took a sip of his coffee; it tasted like heaven and maybe a little too much sugar.

**3. Checking Out Guys**

Maybe at some point Dean realized he wasn't as narrow minded sexually as everyone likes to assume he is. With the lack of settling down that seems to be a major theme through his and his younger brother's life, Dean found he really wasn't going to be choosy about simple pleasures. He'd never actually, y'know, _done_ anything with a dude but just cause he wasn't ordering doesn't mean he can't look at the menu, right? Anyways, he'd never outrightly made a move on a dude or at least, not in front of his dad or his brother. God knows Sam would break out the Pride Parade crap and paint rainbows on his face or something to show his support. The kid's always been a little weird.

It was only on occasion that Dean took the time to spare a glance. A particularly good looking guy would pass by on the street and Dean would casually glance at his ass. Sam never seemed to notice.

It was a Thursday when he finally got caught red handed while at a bar. He'd been knocking back a beer or two, sitting on a stool while Sam hustled a none-too-innocent biker out of his -clearly-hard-earned money at pool. The place smelled strongly of Top Shelf Whiskey and cheap cigars, a dusky haze settling in the air from the smoke. The place was dimly lit, the perfect conditions for a quick scan of the male populace of the room.

It isn't like Dean actively searches out guys. He's still pretty damn straight considering he's never tangoed with another dude. Only when he was sure that there were no women around to ogle (and he'll admit, he _totally_ ogles) that he chances a peek at the best looking mug in the room. Dean's eyes flicker to his brother, noting his focus on the game, before he subtly checks out a guy nearest to him. He's pretty good looking; a tuft of brunette hair, dark eyes and a curious little smirk as he chats up the bartender. Dean wrinkles his nose. If the guy is talking up a sixty year old he's clearly not Dean's type. Letting his eyes roam, he spots a fairly young gentleman in a sophisticated navy button down and black slacks, a scotch glass in one hand, a cigar in the other. The man turns just a little and Dean takes the chance to drop his eyes lower, take in the subtle slope of his lower back to the firm a-

"I was not aware you had changed your preferences," a throaty voice noted and Dean flinched so violently that he nearly spilled his beer down the front of his shirt. Cas was standing next to him, blazer jacket gone and leaving him in his white dress shirt and slacks, blue tie askew as always. That curious little tilt of the head was ever present and the light of the dive bar muted the blue eyes into a slightly greener tone. Dean flushed horribly, his cheeks heating up as he realized what the angel had just implied. "There's no reason to be ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed, damn it! My 'preferences' haven't changed!" Dean choked out, air quoting to emphasize that _he had not been doing anything_. Castiel assumed the 'you are confusing' look he'd sported ever since meeting the Righteous Man before turning to observe the guy Dean had been looking at.

"I do not see why he is appealing," Castiel stated firmly. Dean snorted and tried to kill the embarrassment flooding his bloodstream. It would be the end if Sam were t- "I won't tell Sam." Dean flushed even further and downed the last of his beer without hesitation.

"I thought I told you not to read my mind." Somehow, Dean's voice had come out ten times more rough and husky than intended. He cringed inwardly as he heard the words leave his mouth.

"It was written on your face," Cas replied, eyes not leaving the guy across the room. Mortified, Dean rubbed hand down his face and tried to clear his mind. Whatever. He could feel Cas' gaze burning a hole in the side of his head and he refused to look over. "I am going to say hello to Sam." With those final words, the angel walked away from Dean's side. When the hunter was sure Cas was far enough away, he let his eyes slip down to the angel's ass. A sudden heat washed over Dean and he flushed again and he was sure that the whole room could see him drowning in awkward tension. Cas did seem to have a nice ass...and those slacks didn't really, well, _hi de_ anything.

Dean shook his head and turned his gaze to the football game playing on the screen above the bar. Suddenly he didn't feel like looking at anyone.

**4. Dancing**

It isn't his fault he doesn't know. It's not like he had time to legitamtely go to any dances when he was in high school. Hell, he'd never gone to the dances cause he was too busy _getting laid_. Apparently, that is something Sam will never understand. "I don't see why this is necessary!" He'd tired to defend himself, he really had, but Sam was adamant. It didn't help that Bobby was finding this whole ordeal beyond hilarious. "It's not like we'll be doing a the chacha while we hunt this ghost down!"

"No, but you should know how to dance anyways! Quit being a baby!" Sam bitched, trying to work Bobby's old turntable which didn't seem to really want to obey Sam's manhandling. There were a few scratches before a tune began to play. Something dreadful reminded Dean that it's probably a waltz. Sam stepped forward, his large frame coming to a stop in front of his older brother before reaching a hand out. Dean only glared at the appendage, eyeing it like a rabid animal.

"I'm not dancing with you, Samantha," Dean hissed, crossing his arms and turning away from his brother petulantly. Sam sighed and backed off slightly but not without an appropriately bitchy expression thrown Dean's way.

"Either you dance with me or you dance with Bobby. Your choice," Sam snapped and Dean shuddered. There was a growl from the desk where Bobby was seated, clearly an expression of 'I'm not dancing with you idjit'. Sam rubbed his forehead. "Fine, just fine. Forget the dancing. Go sulk out back or something. Bobby and I need to go on a supply run anyways," Sam finally said, defeated and irritated. Dean almost -almost but not quite- regretted his attitude but the scratching of the needle on the vinyl turntable reminded him of why he was pissed in the first place. Bobby's chair scraped against the floor of the study as the older hunter rose to stretch. "We're probably dealing with some kind of poltergeist. I'm gonna restock on our salt." Dean grunted and watched Sam and their father figure scuttle off towards the door, Sam throwing his brother a bitch face as he slammed the door shut behind his giant loping frame. When the rumbling purr of the Impala driving off -Dean cringed when he heard the gears grind- faded into the distance, the hunter turned to the kitchen to grab, well, anything that seemed to be edible in Bobby's fridge.

There wasn't much but Dean _did _manage to find himself a piece of pizza that didn't seem _too_ old. It smelled good at least. Since a beer always goes well with pizza, he grabbed one out of the cooler by the back door and settled himself down at the kitchen table. Only as he stopped shifting around did he become painfully aware of the scratching needle on the turntable that had yet to be silenced. Staring down at his pizza, Dean sighed. If only Sammy had dropped the topic. It isn't like Dean thinks knowing how to dance wouldn't be helpful...Sam just wouldn't get it. He'd never had the luxury of playing with his mother. Never had the luxury of standing on her feet as they twirled around to an old Elvis record that'd been released on Valentine's day long ago. It's been decades since Dean's thought of it and yet he never forgets. He'll _never_ forget.

The scrape of the chair against worn wooden floor is startlingly loud in the empty house. And that's what Dean hates. The emptiness. He doesn't want to dance. He's not even sure he _could_ without a spike of pain in his heart. So when he walks into the study to see Cas flipping through old albums, Dean thinks his response of walking out of the room is justifiable. He promptly sits back down at the kitchen table and tears a bite off his pizza which is decidedly disgusting. There is a moment of silence before music filters in from the study. Dean knows he's done for. Not only is it Elvis Presely but it's the only song he remembers ever truly dancing to. Leave it to Castiel to see right through the Righteous Man and confront the issue head on.

There is a curious shuffling before Cas approaches Dean in the kitchen. When the hunter looks up with squinted eyes, he notes the lack of trench coat. Cas is staring at him expectantly and Dean makes a point to ignore the niggling in his mind that he probably wouldn't mind dancing with the angel. "Would you care to dance, Dean Winchester?" Dean eyed Castiel wearily and bizarrely wonders where Cas might've learned to dance anyways. When he hesitates, Cas reaches forward and grabs one of his wrists, bodily dragging Dean out of his chair.

"You are supposed to place your hands on my waist, Dean," Castiel chimes when they are standing in the study.

"I know how to dance, Cas," Dean snarks back, placing his hands just a little too stiffly on the angel's hips while Cas looped his arms around the hunter's shoulders. Dean snorts unattractively. "I don't dance, Cas. This is pointless." The angel only stared up at him. "Seriously, I don't want to do this." That must've made some kind of sense because Cas' face changed from confused to determined.

"_I_ would like to dance with _you_." Dean's eyebrow's rose to his hairline and then scrunched together. His gut said Sam had something to do with this, the giant girl. Growling in frustration, Dean stalked over to the record player and reset it to the beginning to start the song over. His face flushed in embarrassment.

"I think Sam put you up to this but fine, I'll bite." Cas seemed to be satisfied or at least that's what Dean gathered from the slightly relieved look on his -_the, _not _his-_ angel's face. They returned to their positions and Dean began to sway with the song. Cas seemed at ease despite his usual stiff demeanor, dancing fluidly. "They taught you how to dance in heaven?" Dean asked, failing to hide the heat in his cheeks as he realized how much that sounded like a pick up line.

Cas had his chin hooked over Dean's shoulder and his breath puffed against Dean's ear as he spoke. "I have observed humanity for a very long time, Dean. I have seen all sorts of dances and how close they bring two people." Okay, so maybe Dean was a little in awe of how that sounds but he couldn't bring himself to say anything else so he settled on whispering some of the lyrics. Wrapping one hand around Cas' and raised it up to lead them in a small sweeping circle.

"Ev'ry time that you're near, all my cares disappear..." Cas leaned back just slightly from Dean's chest to look up at the hunter who was steadfastly keeping his eyes closed. "Darling, you're all that I'm living for. I want you, I need you, I love you, more and more..." A new wave of embarrassment weaved its way through Dean's veins and he could feel the blush creeping through his hairline. Opening his eyes, Dean dared a glance down at Castiel and ran into a wall of twinkling blue. Their faces had become intoxicatingly close and their dancing had become a soft sway. A shit ton of questions popped into Dean's mind but he ignored them as he leaned forward just slightly, watching Cas' eyelids droop in defeat as their breaths mingled on each other's lips. Just as Dean gathered the resolve to close the distance, there was a thwack as Sam burst through the front door. Dean reeled back from Cas so fast he worried he might've gotten whiplash from the movement. Sam looked between them, gears turning in his head. Castiel looked vaguely forlorn while Dean looked as though he might off himself from mortification.

"I don't wanna know." And Sam walked back out to help Bobby unload the Impala.

**5. Watch Chick Flicks **

"What is a 'chick-flick'?" Cas asks one day and because Dean can't really resist the little head tilt the angel pulls he answers with action. He can't really explain it anyways… The motel Dean and Sam are staying in is probably one of the nicer ones that actually has a couch and a tv -the remote is there too!- that gets pretty good signal. Settling down on the couch, Dean flicks on the tv and searches for a chick flick. When Cas doesn't join him, Dean looks over his shoulder to the angel who is still staring at the spot Dean had been occupying before.

"Cas, you gonna come watch a chick-flick or not?" Dean feels stupid saying that but he figures if he wants to kiss a dude he might as well grow a vagina and watch a romantic comedy. The angel wandered over and sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa. Rolling his eyes, Dean reached a hand forward and yanked Cas back by the coat collar until he was settled against the cushions. The relief that Sammy is out doing...Sammy stuff... is wonderful and bittersweet because Dean knows that if he told his brother about his crush on the angel, the kid would fully support him. But he can't because he doesn't want to share. Not yet. "Alright, I'll look for a chick flick." Cas doesn't answer so Dean flicks through channels until he gets to some movie where a chick -is that Miley Cyrus?- is smiling toothily up at some guy who looks like he's over the moon. "Okay, Cas, _this_ is a chick flick. Your basic romance. Girl meets guy, they get feelings for each other, they get in a fight or something tears 'em apart, they realize how important they are to each other and have a huge meaningful kiss at the end."

Castiel glues his eyes to the tv but not until after he shucks off his trench coat, suit jacket, and surprisingly his white dress shirt that leaves him in a t-shirt. Dean flushes at first but hey, maybe the guy just wants to be comfortable. So they sit there in relative silence as Miley fights with a guy on a beach and maybe at one point Cas scooted just a little closer to Dean and the Winchester pulled the 'yawning arm stretch' trick to put his arm around Cas' shoulders. It was pretty comfortable up until the kiss scene. Dean flushed and mumbled something about it being too mushy while Cas simply looked away from the screen, a curious pink tinge on his cheeks.

Sam knew something was up from the silence on the other side of the door when he got back. He hesitated to open it, instead turning to peer in through the window. He almost gagged on his own laughter at the sight. He knew it. Sam _knew_ somehting was going on with them. Ever since he'd walked in on the dancing -okay, maybe ever since his brother met the angel- Sam had suspected there was something going on. The arm Dean had stretched over Cas' frame. The way Cas had his head none-too-innocently -and oh, god, is that _The Last Song_ on the TV?- lying on Dean's shoulder. Sam fucking _knew_ it. He's gonna keep it quiet though cause he knows how Dean works and if Dean is startled, he'll freak out. In hindsight, Dean had never been good with change.

Sam really, really wished he could knock on the door, give Dean time to scramble away from Cas to keep his manliness, but his brother would find it weird. Sam doesn't usually have to knock so why would he start now? So he simply makes a lot of noise jingling his keys, smacking them against the door for added effect. He fully expected Dean to have been half way across the room from the angel by the time he opened the door but the only thing that had changed was the channel, to football. Dean looked over his shoulder, eyes taking in Sam's confused expression. The older hunter hadn't bothered to take his arm from around Cas' shoulders. "Oh, hey, Sammy. Cas and I were watching the Saints get their ass beat." Sam looked at Dean dumbfounded before flicking his eyes to Cas and then his brother again. Cas had turned around to nod in acknowledgment before returning his eyes to the screen.

"Right. Well, I have information on a new hunt if you're...not busy.." Sam replied, shaking off the strangeness of the situation. Dean only smiled lightly before turning back to the game. Cas did join Sam however and pulled him aside momentarily to whisper something in the younger Winchester's ear. When he was finished, Sam pulled back with an incredulous stare, taking in the angel's serious face, before nodding his acceptance. Anyone who doubted Cas' ninja skills should take care to watch their backs. Returning to what he'd originally planned to explain, Sam pulled out a book from the library and began a long winded explanation on the monster of the week. It turns out it's another Stryga and they will have to split into teams. Dean had finally tuned in to listen and formulating a plan of attack. "Okay, Cas, since you and Dean have whatever it is going on between you, you two should be the-" Sam began but Cas cut him off.

"Dean and I don't have anything going on between us," Cas stated, not missing the flicker of hurt that crosses Dean's face with those words. Sam has to bite his lip to keep from smirking, not only from Cas' horrible acting but from the complete bullshit that would be if Cas was serious. Dean stood up from the sofa, walking over to the table and completely focused on Cas, stare cold and hard.

"Alright, Cas, you can go with Sam, then," was the only statement he made before stalking off to the bathroom and slamming the door. As soon as Dean turned the shower on, Sam whirled on Cas with a confused frown.

"So, what, you pick a fight with him and then you apologize. Everything's all good? Are you sure that'll work?" Sam laughed quietly. Cas only nods with confidence and they prepare for the hunt that will only begin at night. And that's perfect.

Only when they are near to killing the Stryga does Dean make a comment. They've all regrouped, waiting in the kid's -Tony, the kid that's helping them- bedroom for the monster. "You got something to say to me, Cas?" and before the angel can respond, they're firing shot at the disgusting old hag of a monster. Her blood sprays all over them and Sam gets a few chunks of hair thrown at him too. Though they are throughly disgusted, they are done and the hunt successful. It's on their way to the Impala that Cas replies, eyeing Sam who is talking to the child's parents. he focuses on Dean, grabbing a fistful of leather jacket so he can bring the hunter to a halt. It's starting to rain too like maybe the world hates them after -and this is Winchester luck, isn't it- everything they've just saved. So when Dean stops to look back to Cas, he really doesn't want to answer. "Is there something you wanna say to me, Cas?" Dean repeats and Cas nods firmly.

"You're important to me," he replies and the recognition that flares in Dean's eyes is enough to push Cas forward until he is brushing -chastely because Cas is still unexperienced- lips with the hunter. And it's still fucking raining which is just too damn coincidental for Dean's liking but he's not gonna say a word cause he's got an armful of angel who's dying to kiss him. So he responds. He kisses Castiel as passionately as allowed; with tongue and teeth and maybe there's a tear or two there but this is girly enough already so there's no reason to bring that up.

"You planned this, didn't you?" Dean says when they pull apart and Cas only smiles, a twitch of the lips really, sheepishly before they both brush their lips together again. Dean will never admit that a chick flick totally made his life.

**The one thing Dean will make an exception for:**

**1. Loving Castiel **

"Welcome to Tina's diner. We keep your tummies full. My name is Tammy and I'll be your waitress." The girl's voice is obnoxious. Sam muttered his order as Dean cheerfully parrots his favorite breakfast meal. Sam has had a headache all morning and part of him wants to slink back to the motel and sleep it off. The lights in the diner are buzzing loudly and God, that's annoying. Sam's got his hair in his face, he probably needs a shave and he's really not in the mood for Dean's whining this morning. Except there is no whining. That's the weird part. Sam's been watching his brother for a few minutes now. Dean's just sitting across from him, a contented smile on his face and his hands crossed on the table. "Are you dying?"

"What? Three times isn't enough for you?" Dean snarked back. But he's still got that creepy smile on his face.

"You're acting weird, man," Sam clarified, stirring the coffee Tammy left on the table for him. Dean just tilts his head a little to the side and frowns.

"I can't be happy? You'd think after everything we've done I'd at least get to be cheerful," Dean snapped, his smile fading only to reappear as a wolfish grin when Tammy returns with their food. She set down the greasiest (and damn it, Sam's seen _a lot_ of greasy breakfasts) platter of food in front of Dean and a simple bowl of fruit and yogurt for the younger Winchester. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Sam could feel the awkwardness settling in like a storm cloud.

"Look, I'm not saying you can't be happy. I just think it's a little creepy, okay?" And Sam put his foot in his mouth again. It's never been this hard to speak to his brother before. Dean only stared at him. There was a jingling at the door and Dean's head whipped around to stare at the newcomer. Leaning to the side for a better view, Sam saw nothing. It was just a girl in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Cocking an eyebrow in confusion, Sam returned to his breakfast. Dean slowly turned back around and looked...disappointed. "Shouldn't you just call him?" Sam asked, grumbling internally.

"He said he'd be here. He's got a case for us," Dean replies, stabbing his omelette (and seriously, when has Dean ever gotten an omelette?). And like he'd been summoned (and of course he comes for Dean only) Cas walks in from the front door and slides into the booth next to Dean. Sam rolled his eyes and shoved a piece of pineapple in his mouth. "Cas, glad you came!" Dean's cheer seems to get the better of him cause he leans over and kisses Cas' cheek lovingly. Sam doesn't say anything but his brain is sure as hell turning at full steam. Cas only looks vaguely surprised by the open affection. "You got a case for us?"

So they're ignoring it? Sam coughs awkwardly into his hand before looking at the angel questioningly. "Yes, there seems to be a coven of witches in Utah practicing their magic on young unruly children," Castiel says quietly before jumping so hard his knees hit the table. Sam's eyes widened and he looked between Dean and the angel suspiciously. Cas was beginning to gain a dull flush across his cheekbones and Dean looked just as cheerful as before. "Dean, that is highly inappropriate." And Sam's searching for brain bleach while he aims a particularly disgusted bitch face at his obnoxious brother.

"That's disgusting, Dean," he gags, pushing what's left of his breakfast away. "I'm gonna get on that case. Go pay at the front desk." Sam got up and began to walk out, pulling open the front door of the diner and turning back briefly. Dean had dragged Cas up to the front register to pay Tammy, holding the angel's hand in his and waiting for service. As Sam watched, Cas leaned over and nuzzled his face into the crook of the older Winchester's shoulder with a smile. Tammy looked a little let down but quickly recovered and smiled at the couple. Sam sighed. So maybe he couldn't begrudge his brother his happiness.

Dean walked out with Castiel in tow, smile still stuck on his face, less cheerful but warm and loving all the same. "Ready to hunt some witches, Sammy?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do that," Sam said, smiling. Dean grinned and threw an arm over Cas' shoulder, kissing the angel's forehead. "You gonna give him your letter jacket next?" Sam teased (because he has to. He's a brother, after all). Dean stuck his tongue out, opening the backdoor of the Impala for the angel before getting into the driver's seat. Sam squished his large frame into the front seat and threw a glance over at Dean. "Since when did you get so relaxed about PDA?"

Dean rolled down his window, pulling the car out of the diner's parking lot and letting the summer air ruffle his hair. He glanced up at the rearview mirror, catching Castiel's gaze and grinning. "Sam, when you love someone, you gotta show it cause you don't know when they'll be gone." And that was that. Sam grinned. Castiel smiled and looked out the window. "So, what part of Utah are we heading to, Cas?"


End file.
